Alex had been deep in her work, fingers flying across the keyboard, mind locked in the familiar rhythm of problem-solving. The café around her was just background noise—until a voice cut through it.

She barely looked up at first, muttering a distracted answer, but something shifted in the air.

Then she saw her.

The girl wasn’t just pretty—she was warm. Soft, wheat-colored skin, freckles scattered like constellations. Light brown curls, slightly messy, like she’d wandered through the misty city without a care. She was full, real, curves filling out high-waisted jeans in a way that made Alex forget how to breathe. A loose-knit cardigan hung off her shoulders, the whole look effortlessly vintage, like she had stepped out of another time.

Alex had never had a moment before. Not the kind where your stomach drops, where your brain short-circuits with an oh.

Oh.

So this was what people meant when they said they just knew.

She realized she was staring. Buffering.

The girl said something else. Alex scrambled for a response, grabbed her coffee—cold. Great. That would help.

Clearing her throat, she forced a smirk, masking the absolute crisis happening in her head.

“…Yeah. Yeah, sure. That sounds—uh—great,” she muttered, praying she hadn’t just agreed to something insane.

The girl smiled. Slow, knowing.

And something in Alex clicked.

She had always known she was gay. But this?

This was an awakening.